Group Effort
by Howling1
Summary: When Kurt and Sam are banned from attending prom by Principal Figgins, the outraged glee club rallies around them in support.


**Title:** Group Effort (1/1)

**Fandom:** Glee

**Pairing:** Kurt/Sam, though technically it's "Kurt/Original Character" because no one knows anything about Sam yet. Also various references to other slash pairings throughout.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Word Count:** ~4000

**Disclaimer**: Glee is copyright to Fox. I own nothing. Please don't sue.

**Summary:** When Kurt and Sam are banned from attending prom, the entire Glee Club rallies behind them in support. (Fill for a prompt at glee_fluff_meme.)

**Spoilers:** References to Season 1 and characters from Season 2.

**A/N: **Unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are mine. This was supposed to just be a quick little fill, but instead it sort of … mushroomed into something a lot longer than I thought it'd be. Feel free to let me know if any characterizations are off; it's my first time writing the Glee kids as one big group. Also, feel free to imagine him any way you wish, but in my head, Sam is played by Taylor Lautner. [LOL I'M SUCH A LOSER.]

* * *

At first, the rest of the club doesn't realize that anything is wrong. But when Kurt and Sam walk into practice with their hands clasped together tightly and not making eye contact with anyone else, the kids begin to suspect that something is up. And when they get in front of the room and sing a haunting duet version of Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn" as a last-minute song suggestion for Sectionals, Mercedes can't take it any more and stands up, addressing the both of them, concern evident in her voice.

"Boys. What's the matter?"

Kurt and Sam glance at each other and seem to have a conversation with just their eyes, to the club's confusion. After about fifteen seconds of this, Sam tilts his head and gives Kurt a look, and Kurt relents, turning to face his best friend.

"Figgins won't let Sam and I attend prom."

Silence descends on the room for a moment.

"Oh, _HELL_ no," Mercedes shouts.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Artie says, and Tina nods in vehement agreement.

"Not cool, man," Mike mutters, shooting a glance at Matt, who raises his eyebrows, also nodding.

"As the child of two gay parents, I can assure you that none of us will take this lying down, Kurt. My dads have enough pamphlets to fill Figgins' office to the ceiling and give him a massive amount of paper cuts, which while slightly vindictive will also surely teach him a lesson," Rachel says, primly.

Finn, from beside her, stands up, and his speech is much shorter and less articulate, though still effective: "What the fuck, dude? I mean, seriously, what the fuck?"

"Yeah, man, it's lame," Puck says. When the entire club stares at him, he shrugs and says, "What? I'm down with the homo action. Glee club probably turns guys gay anyway, so."

"It turned me and Santana gay," Brittany says dreamily, resting her head on Santana's shoulder; Santana clears her throat, embarrassed. "I mean," Brittany amends, "we had sex all the time but we weren't gay before that."

Santana shakes her head and says, "Whatever. Kurt, Rachel's right. I never thought I'd hear myself say that," she adds. "Anyway, we can't just let Figgins do this."

"No, we can't," Quinn says, and the entire club turns to look at her; there's a gleam in her eyes unlike anything they've ever seen before. "And we won't. I have an idea."

In front of them, Mr. Schuester doesn't say anything; he just sits at the piano, lost in his own thoughts (and outrage) as the club begins to plot.

* * *

"You can't _possibly_ justify this!" Will shouts, slamming a fist on Principal Figgins' desk; the other man winces. "What reason could you have for banning a same-sex couple from prom? This is a night high schoolers _dream_ about, Figgins!"

"William, I had no choice in the matter!" Figgins responds, though the way he won't make eye contact with Will suggests otherwise. "Your performance at Invitationals drew complaints, and I had to make sure that the families of our students would continue to feel comfortable sending their children to our school!"

"Complaints? It drew _complaints_?" Will says, running his hands through his hair. "We sang 'Truly Madly Deeply'. As a _group_. Sam and Kurt had one line each!"

"Yes, but they sang them to each other!" Figgins replies, eyebrows raised. "Such a rampant display of sexuality should not have been permissible!"

"A _rampant display of sexuality?_" Will repeats, going from outrage to pure incredulity. "Finn and Rachel sing lines to each other all the time, and you haven't made a peep!"

"It is not my peeps you have to be worried about, William! Authority is derived from the consent of the governed! And right now, the governed — that would be our children's parents — are not happy!"

Will makes an angry sound and almost shouts at Figgins again, but instead he presses his fingers to his temples and takes several deep breaths. When he speaks again, his voice is deadly quiet. "How many complaints did you get?"

Figgins shifts in his seat. "Two."

Will raises his head and looks Figgins dead in the eye. "And how many complaints do you think you'll get if you don't let Sam and Kurt go to prom together?"

Figgins looks away, nervously, and doesn't respond.

Will begins backing out of the office, his hands raised. "Fine. Do what you want, Figgins. Just so you know, Kurt and Sam have the entire glee club backing them. Plus, Sam has the football team, and Kurt?" Will smirks. "Kurt has his dad. Do you remember what happened _last time_ he was here?"

Figgins stares at Will, wide-eyed, and Will arches an eyebrow and leaves, passing Sue along the way. Sue watches him go, then just turns to look at Figgins through the window, shakes her head in disappointment, and follows Will.

* * *

Sam and Kurt greet each other with a hug — a quick one, since they are in the school hallway and other jocks might be around — and Kurt smiles at his boyfriend as they draw back. "Hey, you."

"Hey yourself," Sam says, but his own smile is distant. "I'm sorry about all this."

"What do you have to apologize for?" Kurt asks, incredulous. "None of this is your fault."

"I know, but … I didn't expect to get everyone wrapped up in everything. I feel bad."

"Well, don't," comes a voice, and Kurt turns to find Mercedes and Quinn have joined them; Mercedes is wearing a rainbow top and a "Love is Love" pin, while Quinn is carrying a stack of flyers and donning a "Straight But Not Narrow" cap. Mercedes has a hand on her hip as she talks to him. "My boy Kurt is _going_ to prom and having the fabulous night that he's always dreamed of, and nobody is going to take that night away from him if we have anything to say about it."

"Listen," Quinn says, passing them a flyer; Kurt notices as he takes one that it says "GAY BY BIRTH, FABULOUS BY CHOICE: Organize a protest!" "Ever since I got back on the Cheerios—"

"With her newly-found conscience," Mercedes adds.

"—I got back some of the pull I used to have. We could really change a lot of minds with this. Don't worry, Kurt," she adds, and smiles. "You and Sam are safe with us."

"Thank you, Quinn," Kurt says, and he means it; Sam nods from beside him.

"Just doing my job as a Christian," Quinn replies. "'Love thy neighbor' and all that."

She and Mercedes saunter off, talking animatedly to each other; Sam and Kurt watch them go.

"You didn't tell me how scary Glee Club could be when they're fighting for something," Sam remarks offhandedly.

"This is the first time we've all _agreed_ on anything," Kurt says, incredulous.

* * *

Rachel and Figgins stare at each other.

For a really, really long time.

Somewhere, a clock ticks.

Figgins is unnerved.

Rachel just keeps staring.

Finally, Figgins has to break the silence. "Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Berry?"

"I am fairly certain you know why I'm here," Rachel replies, glaring at him coldly. "My dads are _furious_. The only reason they're not here themselves is because their best hag is about to deliver a baby."

"I have no problems with your parenting background," Figgins replies, attempting to sound soothing. "It is merely a question of complaints—"

"Let them complain!" Rachel bursts out, standing; her hands are clenched into fists. "What on Earth do they know to begin with? Do you know _how_ many times I've been told that my parents are inferior, Principal Figgins? My dads used to wake up in the middle of the night and chase vandals off of our property with a rake and then see the word 'FAG' spray-painted on the side of our house. We've had the windows to our van smashed in. People would stare at us when they dropped me off at day camp, and then they'd make fun of _me_ after they left. And through it all, my dads would tell me, 'Let them complain. Some people just won't ever understand.' So perhaps _you_ can see my frustration when you cater to the whims of _a couple of people_ who wouldn't _understand_ true love if it smacked them in the face with a garden hose!"

Figgins stared at her. "That is not some kind of euphemism, is it?"

Rachel throws her hands up in the air. "How do you expect me to be anything other than _enraged_, Mr. Figgins? Let Sam and Kurt attend prom! Who is it really harming in the long run?"

"Our finances, Ms. Berry," Figgins says, sternly. "We could be sued."

"Then I'll counter-sue whoever tries _any_thing. And given that one of my dads is a lawyer — a _really good_ one, I might add — it'd be so much worse for the opposition."

"My decision is final, Rachel."

"No it isn't," Rachel responds, blandly, as she gets up to leave. "You just think it is."

* * *

Quinn raises an eyebrow, amused. "Maybe the two of you should have waited until prom started to chain yourselves to the gym doors."

"We got excited, okay?" Finn says, struggling with the handcuff around his wrist; as he pulls, the door handle he's attached to clatters noisily. "Can you help us out, Quinn?"

"I don't think I have anything on hand that can cut through those," Quinn responds. "But I can see if I can try and track down a janitor for you."

"As long as it's not Mr. Clyde," Puck grunts from beside Finn, also struggling with his handcuffs. "That guy creeps me out. I think he keeps coming on to me."

"Speaking of which, Puck, I never did ask you," Quinn says. She bites her lip, unsure of how to say it. "Why are you so … so on board with this?"

"If you're implying that I'm not completely and totally into pussy, then you're dead wrong," Puck responds, and attempts to cross his arms, but can't, since he's still chained to the door, and he gives up. "But, still. Like. Sam's my bro, you know? And if he wants to go to this dance thing or whatever, then he should be able to. Just 'cause he's dating a dude, it shouldn't mean he can't."

"Yeah," Finn chimes in. "And plus, Kurt's my _actual_ bro now, and ever since he stopped being really creepy to me I started to kinda like him. Not _like-_like him," he adds hastily as Puck smirks at him. "Just, I wanna be a good brother, you know? And if this'll make Kurt happy then I'm in."

"You're in over your heads, is what you're in," Quinn says, but she's smiling, and Puck and Finn laugh. "But I'm sure Kurt and Sam will appreciate the support. You know, when they stop laughing at your utter stupidity."

"The thanks I get for being all noble and crap," Puck grumbles, as he attempts to wrestle free of the cuff again. "Ow."

* * *

Figgins has braced himself, but he still isn't anything close to prepared when the firestorm that is Burt Hummel marches into his office, slams his hands on the desk and leans down to look the principal dead in the eye. "This is discrimination."

"My hands are tied, Mr. Hummel," Figgins says, carefully. "There is nothing I can do."

"Nothing you can do, huh? _Nothing you can do?_" Burt repeats. "How about setting a standard for schools everywhere in Ohio? How about standing _up_ for something, Figgins? Something like basic human rights?"

"It is just one dance," Figgins says, almost in desperation. "There will be others for Kurt to enjoy!"

"That's not the point, and you know it," Burt replies, staring Figgins down, and Figgins matches his gaze, though it's difficult. "Kurt is heartbroken, and anyone who causes my son pain has to answer to me."

"It is not my doing! We have a responsibility to the parents who have protested!"

"So let me get this straight," Burt says, pacing now, hands clasped tight behind his back; Figgins fidgets again. "You're telling me that the decision that _you_ have made somehow isn't your fault, and worse, you're trying to pin the blame on these … anonymous parents, whoever they are, so that I won't be furious with _you?_" He turns back to Figgins; his face is one of disgust. "Call me crazy, but that seems like a pretty cowardly move to me."

Figgins doesn't reply. Burt, fuming, looks down, then back up to glare at the principal again. "Look, I came here in a rage attempting to change your mind, and I can see now that that's not gonna happen. But you mark my words, we are _not_ through here. I'm gonna follow up on this. And when I do, you'll wish you _had_ had the courage to do the right thing."

Burt storms out of the office, leaving Figgins to stare after him and wonder if he would, indeed, ever have that courage.

* * *

"Thank you all for coming," Quinn says through Sue's trademark megaphone, pilfered from her office. "So, as most of you probably already know, same-sex couples have been barred from attending this year's prom."

"It's provided me with three issues' worth of content," says Jacob Ben Israel from the front row, and the — rather large — crowd of people seated on the bleachers turn to look at him. "I haven't had a scandal this big since Quinn's pregnancy!"

"Jacob, shut up, or I'll claw your eyes out with my bare hands and feed them to the underprivileged youth of Africa," Quinn says, calmly, still speaking through the megaphone. The crowd erupts into scattered applause. "See what I just did there? That's called _intimidation_. It's a pretty worthwhile strategy, according to Ms. Sylvester, and given that she's won seven national championships she obviously knows a thing or two.

"But," she continues, and Mercedes beams from beside her, "it's not the strategy we're going to be using to protest against this. We have something much more effective in mind. Something that, if all of you go along with it, will really stick with Figgins, and everyone else who thinks like him. Now, we're not going to force you to do this. But Mercedes says I've got a conscience now, and maybe some of you," and here her gaze lingers on Karofsky and Azimio, "will follow my example."

"Tell us what the plan is already!" comes a call from the crowd, and Quinn smirks.

"All right. Here's how it works…"

* * *

The night of prom, Kurt reluctantly interrupts his moisturizing routine to answer a ring of the doorbell, and opens the door to see Sam standing there, wearing a tux and smiling. It's enough to make Kurt feel significantly underdressed, because he's only in silk pajamas.

"What are you doing here?" he says, finally, in quiet bewilderment.

Sam shrugs. "I just figured, since … we've been barred from attending, we could have our own little personal prom, here."

Kurt blinks, then breaks into a wide grin, pulling Sam inside and shutting the door, pressing Sam's back against it as he leans in. "You are _so_ adorkably sweet," Kurt says, and kisses him.

"I know," Sam replies after they break the kiss, also grinning. "It's why you love me, after all."

Kurt's eyes sweep over him. "You look amazing," he says softly.

Sam's smile grows wider. "So do you."

They descend the stairs to Kurt's room, hand-in-hand. Kurt turns his iPod on to Lady Gaga's "Speechless" — a favorite of theirs, even though Sam mostly prefers country music, to Kurt's exasperation — and the two of them place their hands on each other's hips and slowly dance in a circle, stepping in time to the quiet, leisurely pace of the music. Kurt rests his head on Sam's shoulder and breathes in, deeply, inhaling the scent of Sam — a combination of cologne and fresh-cut grass — and Sam raises a hand and gently strokes Kurt's hair.

"Did you go to Quinn's rally?" Kurt murmurs into Sam's shoulder.

"No," says Sam, sighing. "Did you?"

"No. It's like you said; I didn't really want to make a bigger deal out of all this."

"Too late," Sam deadpans, and Kurt laughs huskily.

After awhile, the song ends, and they separate. Kurt's smile is soft, genuine. "This is nice, Sam. Thank you."

Abruptly, Kurt's cell phone goes off, breaking the spell. Kurt rolls his eyes, separates from Sam apologetically and goes to it, half-tempted to just turn it off, but the caller ID says "Quinn" and so, reluctantly, he answers. "Hello?"

"Throw a tux on and come outside," he hears Quinn say excitedly. "We're here!"

"We? Here?" Kurt asks, but it's to a dial tone; Quinn has hung up. He turns to Sam, perplexed. "Do you know anything about this?"

* * *

Sam did not, in fact, know anything, but as soon as Kurt had tossed on a tux and spent a reasonable amount of time on his hair and face (Sam eventually had to drag him away from the mirror), they opened the front door again, to see —

"Oh my God," Kurt says, because there's no other way to describe the sight in front of him. Parked in front of his house is an enormous van, decorated with spray-painted rainbows all over it and the words "The Berry Family Sunshine Mobile" plastered across the side. As Kurt stares, the doors to the van pop open and the rest of the Glee Club comes spilling out.

"'Sup, guys?" Finn says cheerily, looking sharp in a tux and tie. Beside him, Puck, dressed much the same, has cleaned up nicely as well. "We goin', or what?"

"Going?" Kurt splutters. "Going where?"

"Like you don't know!" Rachel says, hopping out of the driver's seat. She's back in her Lady Gaga outfit, as is Quinn beside her. "Don't we have a prom to get to?"

"I — I don't know, do we?" Kurt asks.

Mercedes, looking resplendent in a dark blue dress and sparkling gold earrings, smiles. "Of course you do."

* * *

If Kurt was flabbergasted by the sight of Rachel's dads' van, what he sees when he steps into the re-decorated gym just about blows him away. The lights are down low, there are streamers all over the place, and a spinning disco ball is throwing glittering lights everywhere — but most importantly, the entire school is divided into same sex couples. Guys are dancing with guys and girls are dancing with girls, not caring in the slightest, looking like they're having the time of the lives (even some of the jocks, despite themselves). The music is blaring loudly, Elton John's "Crocodile Rock" — and as the song ends, in the brief moment of silence before Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours" starts up, Kurt turns to Quinn.

"What— you _did_ this?" he says, stunned.

"Hell yes she did," Artie says lightly as Tina hops off his lap and goes to dance with Rachel. "We arranged it so that we'd come to the school in opposite-gender couples, then switch once we got inside. Well, _she_ arranged it. We just went with it."

"Shall we dance, Puck?" Finn asks in mock formality, giving an exaggerated bow to his best friend.

"Thought you'd never ask, Hudson," Puck replies, and grabs Finn's hand and pulls him out to the floor. They promptly start doing a funky dance that does not go at all with the quirky, slow music playing behind them, and Kurt throws back his head and _laughs_, just laughs, long and heartily.

"I think he likes it!" Brittany says happily as she does the Macarena, Santana reluctantly following her lead. "That's good 'cause I like it too."

"Think we all do, Brittany!" Mike calls from where he's breakdancing with Matt.

Kurt turns to his two best friends, breathless. "Mercedes, Quinn, this is — I can't even —" he stops, smiles again, and then simply says, "You're amazing."

"We know," Quinn quips, then reaches out and clasps Mercedes' hand. "Let's dance."

"Girl, you better bring it!" Mercedes laughs as they head out.

Kurt leans against Sam, and the two of them clasp hands as well, staring out at the group of people before them. Artie's doing some kind of fishtail move with Jacob; Karofsky is spinning in a circle with Azimio, both of them looking like they're having a lot more fun than they'd ever admit; even Sue is there, doing a few confident steps with Emma, who's only looking slightly scared. Kurt guffaws out loud when he sees Mr. Schue and Bryan Ryan doing something like The Butterfly, undoubtedly from their high school days. However, Kurt's eyes then land on one other couple, who then begin approaching him —

"…Principal Figgins? Coach?" Sam asks.

Sure enough, Figgins and Tanaka are standing in front of them, not holding hands but still undoubtedly together. Ken looks grumpy, but his body moves slightly with the beat of the music nonetheless; Figgins, however, looks nervous. "Hello, Kurt. Hello, Sam," he says.

Kurt's only respond is to stare, open-mouthed; he soon realizes what he's doing and closes it. "Um. Hi," he says.

"You two are … you're looking good," Sam says, clearly at a loss for what else to say.

Ken nods in thanks and adjusts the collar of his polo shirt. "Hey, Figgins, I'm gonna see if there's anything good to drink 'round here. Be right back."

"No alcohol!" Figgins reminds him sternly, as Ken departs. He then turns to face Kurt and Sam again; after a moment, he says, "I am sorry."

Kurt and Sam smile. "Apology definitely accepted," Sam says.

"I'd say you've more than redeemed yourself," Kurt adds, casting a critical eye at Ken's retreating back.

Figgins rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yes, well … I am glad you think so. I realized after your father talked to me that some changes were in order."

"Dad went to you?" Kurt said, incredulous. "Oh, I am _so_ gonna yell at him when I get home."

"He was just looking out for you," Sam responds soothingly, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"And I am glad he said what he did," Figgins adds. "However many complaints we may receive, I am ready to deal with them. Even if it's more than three, or even four," he adds with a shudder. "It made me realize there are some things more important than just catering to those complaints."

"You're damn right there are," Tanaka says as he returns, his mouth full of food. "They're about to play 'Thong Song', and I am going to shake my damn moneymaker even if it kills me, and I don't care who sees it. You're welcome to join," he adds to Figgins, then disappears into the crowd of dancers.

Figgins' eyes go wide. "I suppose I should follow him," he says. "Have … have fun tonight, boys."

"We will, Principal Figgins!" Kurt calls as he goes after Ken. "Thank you!" He watches them for a moment, then turns to Sam. "You don't think they're actually dating, do you?"

"Oh, God, no," Sam says with a shudder. "I couldn't handle it."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Come on," Sam says lightly, holding out a hand. "Let's dance."

They do, and as the music shifts to Britney Spears' "Baby One More Time", Kurt giggles. "This is a classic."

"This is what constitutes a classic now? God help us all," Sam drawls, but he's smiling when he says it, and Kurt punches him lightly in the shoulder. "Hey, watch the biceps."

"I do watch them. Especially when you're flexing," Kurt purrs. "I _love_ to watch them then."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Subtle as always."

After a few very intense minutes of fierce dance moves inspired by the song's very inappropriate sexy-Catholic-schoolgirl video of yore, Train's "Drops of Jupiter" begins playing instead, and Kurt and Sam draw close to each other, dancing slowly, much like they were in Kurt's basement. Kurt again rests his head on Sam's shoulder, and says, "So we pretty much have the best glee club in the world."

"We have the best _friends_ in the world," Sam says, smiling.

"And I have the best boyfriend," Kurt says.

"Ditto," Sam laughs.

And he draws forward, capturing Kurt's lips in another kiss, and in this moment, Kurt and Sam are perfectly, blissfully happy.


End file.
